Mine, all mine -adults only special-
by MaybeItsJustMyType
Summary: Molly and Sherlock are alone at last, finally.. Maybe it's time something wonderful happened.. This is the extended version for those who prefer to get up close and personal when OTP gets down and dirty.. This is the out-take chapter for a pair of pretty brown eyes, it replaces chapter 9 for the M level readers.


**This can be read as a stand alone chapter if you wish, otherwise you're welcome to come take a look at the whole fic, A pair of pretty brown eyes, this slots into chapter 9..**

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It didn't take long for their wandering hands start to find their way under each other's clothes. Sherlock groaned when he felt her skin under his hands. That little voice inside that had been tempting him to touch her for what felt like forever, was exultant, revelling in delight at her sweet perfection.

Moving his hands slowly he rubbed in circles over her breasts, then gliding back down to her stomach he gathered her singlet up and pulled it off, Molly gasped as his hands brushed across her already sensitive nipples creating a warm pulse that throbbed insistently between her thighs, she was unable to stop the little sobbing sounds that were escaping, Sherlock had no idea why she was trying to.

"Molly, don't.."

"Sherlock, I want you," Sherlock pupils bloomed,he felt like his erection would punch through his pants, he bucked his hips and ground himself against her. Molly threw her head back, writhing, needing to feel him, she could feel herself literally dripping with desire for him, she'd never felt this blissfully aroused, "Aahh."

"Molly, my Molly, I'm not going anywhere," he bit her neck in a savage claim and growled, thrusting up into her centre again and again. One hand curved its way down the topography of her body, convexities and concavities sheathed in soft, smooth skin. He continued his exploration slowly, all the way down to her sweetest spot finding her so wet that her pants were soaked. He groaned in appreciation and felt his body responding even more desperately.

"Sherlock," Molly wailed, she trailed he hands down to the buttons on his shirt and started to fumble with them, her hands were shaking and she was babbling about wanting him now and how she needed to feel. Sherlock couldn't take it, he needed to be with her now, properly, inside her and he knew she needed him too.

He grasped his shirt by its plackets and simply ripped, slipping it off his arms he pulled her to him, when her nipples brushed his chest he felt a moment of peace as he crushed her close, almost immediately his need escalated, his desperation developing into a frenzy.

Their kisses were brutal, teeth clacking as they jostled and shoved at each other in their desperation to be closer, nipping and licking, sucking and pulling, Molly was chasing his tongue into his mouth and then enticing it back into hers.

Molly reached down and tugged at Sherlock's pants trying to yank them down. Sherlock cursed, looking down, attempting to focus his eyes enough to deal with the slide and zip combo that was standing between them, his concentration was also severely compromised due to Molly slipping her pants off.

His fingers stilled, gaze snagged, she was overwhelming in her beauty. Silky brown curls adorned her mons pubis, his eyes roamed leisurely to her most intimate secret, drinking it all in like a man in a desert sighting an oasis. A delicate pink shell, curves and lines, slick and invitingly warm, he ached to touch. A muted sound escaped the back of his throat as he reached a hand forward slowly, Molly looked up in surprise at his sudden stillness. He brushed knuckles across her melting folds lightly, Molly bit her lip and hummed sweetly.

Sherlock's eyes found hers, worshipping her, Molly held her breath, frozen in place by his apparent awe. Moving toward her he curved his fingers around her face, swooping over her hair and glancing and skipping his touch across her skin, his touch achingly light. Heat pooled between her legs, When he tilted her head to the mirrored angle of his own and kissed her gently she throbbed and moaned, her arousal clear.

Molly fell upon his trousers, concentrating on the slide intently until finally she conquered it, a primal roar sounding in her mind, after that the zip was a given and she pushed his trousers and pants down in tandem. When they caught on Sherlock's erection he threw his head back and made a guttural sound. Molly freed him from his pants and then just let go, leaving them to slide down freely.

She grasped his prick in her hands and stroked him slowly, just enough to tease, she wanted to torment him until he snapped, she wanted him to grab her and throw her down and fuck into her hard, she'd never craved a man like this. Molly didn't have to push for long.

Sherlock's head rolled forward levelling his eyes at her with that intense hyper focused stare she loved, though this time filtered through hooded lids, she felt herself clenching as he did so, hard enough to pull her stomach muscles up as though his stare was controlling her desire and her hips jerked forward towards him.

Her movements broke the spell, he picked her up by her waist telling her, "Now, Molly, I must have you now," he lay her down none too gently.

She encouraged him, swinging her legs open, snaking her hand down to palm herself, sliding her hand back and forth over and over, "Now, Sherlock," she agreed, her voice husky and low.

Sherlock moaned, he had a vague floating thought that if his cock got any harder he'd pass out. He hovered between her legs, shaking in the potency of his need. Molly's hand, still slick with her own desire, wrapped around his length, they moaned in unison, angling him into the right place she bucked her hips to encourage him to push inside. When Sherlock pushed all the way in, Molly cried out with relief, there was no need to wait, she'd been ready for a long time.

Molly breathed out an "Ohhhh," as her hips arched up in a slow sensual movement, the sound a starter gun for Sherlock, he pulled back nearly all the way out and slammed back in, in and out, in and out, harder and harder with each stroke. Molly's hips bucking involuntarily with each movement as she panted and kept up a stream of praises for him and what he was doing to her.

Sherlock was unaware of anything other than the two of them and their bodies and their love, he was inhabiting a world previously unknown to him. Molly surrounded him entirely, he was sheathed in her physically, she was in his heart and he in hers and her praise surrounded him and spurred him on, as it always had and as he hoped it always would.

"Sherlock! Ohhhhh, fuck! Oh it's you, you feel so good," Molly's walls pulsed and squeezed around him, her stomach ratcheting with each stroke, her muscles threaded strings being tightened again and again by her desire, her hips bucking up with each thrust, he pounded into her at an almost inhuman speed, almost vibrating against Molly's bud.

Molly was wailing and thrashing and calling his name, her voice hoarse as her orgasm went on and on, she was slowing when she felt his release filling her, the idea of being filled with his seed convulsing her walls in an echo of her previous rapture again and again.

Sherlock was panting above her, his hair wringing wet, his eyes squeezed closed, buffering, unable to process what had just happened. Molly's stomach squeezed and clutched, while she waited, her heart stopped beating entirely for a long moment.

Finally his eyes sprung open and landed on Molly, "I love you, Molly," he smiled an innocent open smile. Relief flowed through her limbs releasing the knots forming in anticipation of the axe about to fall, Molly was certain no one had seen Sherlock this unshielded since his childhood.

He shuffled over her leg and lay down next to her, "You're not going to say it back? I declare my love and you leave me hanging like a fool?"

Molly giggled, "I think you've finally stopped being a fool, you know there's never been anyone for else for me, you know I love you," rolling over on her side she bent her arm up and leaned on her elbow, smiling, "I love you, Sherlock, more than I've ever loved any other, okay?"

Sherlock rolled to his side mirroring her position, his expression serious, "More than Tom?" He looked down while waiting for the answer.

Molly frowned at him, "Of course, more than Tom, I broke off the engagement didn't I?"

Sherlock hesitated for a moment, "But you were going to marry him or you wouldn't have said yes," Sherlock maintained eye contact this time, wanting to see the truth.

Molly sighed, "Sherlock, I've loved you for a lot longer than you've loved me," Sherlock drew a breath and opened his mouth to respond, Molly pressed a finger to his lips, "Just listen," Sherlock nodded, for once not arguing. "I know you trusted me, I know I mattered, but you didn't love me. Tom was," she paused to gather her thoughts, trying to be fair to Tom, he'd deserved better from her, he couldn't help his inability to be another man.

"Tom was a lovely man, I thought I could make him enough, if I just tried hard enough, and when you weren't here, most of the time I could. I'd cry when he was asleep, wondering if you were still alive, if you thought about me -ever," Molly's eyes filled with the memories of those long dark nights. "We hadn't been together for long when he asked me why I was always crying, - I told him I had allergies, that I always looked I'd been crying. I didn't want him to know I was crying for another man who didn't, wouldn't, couldn't? Love me and who was 'dead' anyway."

"I'm sorry Molly, I'm so sorry." Sherlock rolled to his back and pulled Molly to rest on his chest, he pulled the throw Mrs Hudson kept on the end of his bed, 'In case you get cold, dear, you're not a machine you know, much as you may wish to be.'

"If I could fix things I'd let myself fall sooner Molly, but I needed to change a lot, I would have crushed you, I was...angry."

"I know, I wasn't ready either, I was too in awe of you, too cowed by your presence," Molly laughed, "So much for the post sex glow, we've gotten all maudlin instead."

Sherlock started sliding his hand up and down her body gliding in and over curves, "Maybe we should try again?" His voice already husky with want.

"Hmm," Molly tapped her finger on her lip pretending to think it over, Sherlock's palm gliding over her lightly culminating in his index finger swirling slowly on her bud soon had her gasping and searching for his mouth. "Kiss me," Sherlock grinned and kissed her neck, "Sherlock," she whined.

He laughed, "Oh I intend to kiss you, just not on your mouth, I've waited for too long to taste you, and I'm not willing to wait any longer."

Sherlock's voice had always had a powerful effect on Molly, but never more so than now, with each deep velvet word he spoke she felt more wetness gather. Sherlock knew exactly the effect his voice was having and he wanted Molly to be a dripping writhing mess when he was done, if she could speak coherently when he was done with her and ready to impale her on his shaft again he hadn't been sucessful.

Making his voice even deeper than usual he told Molly his plans while kissing his way down her body, he didn't stop flicking and swirling for one moment as he did so.

Molly panting, red in the face, leaned up on her elbows to look at what he was doing, Sherlock saw her looking and plunged two fingers in, sliding them in and out so she could see them disappearing and reappearing into her centre, she gasped and start begging, "Please, please Sherlock."

"Hmm, not quite yet," he grinned looking feral, his hair a cloud around his face, his eyes no colour on the spectrum that Molly was aware of as he stared into hers, Molly's eyes closed, the intensity too much. That was the moment he decided to put his mouth on her and suck, fingers pistoning in and out, Molly's breath was shallow, her heart pounding, she could feel her orgasm rising, the intensity unparalleled.

Picturing the fierce way he'd looked at her in her mind, kept thinking about his fingers and his mouth causing so much pleasure, with the thought that Sherlock was sucking her pearl, Sherlock taking her to this dizzying height. Her hips rose ever higher, arching up and up, her body was shaking uncontrollably as a tidal wave of pleasure overtook her, Molly was crying out incoherently as waves of pleasure shook her frame, crashing again and again till finally she was spent and lay panting, floating in a surreal wonderland.

Sherlock watched her riding her orgasm out waiting until her breathing slowed from its peak, "Molly, I want you."

Molly crawled up to straddle him, swinging a leg over him she hissed in a breath when his cock brushed her against her core, Sherlock's eyes flitted up, a question apparent.

Molly smiled at him, still feeling dreamy, she knew the sensitivity would work to her advantage soon enough. Leaning down she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, that beautiful, untouchable, sensual mouth, he groaned, "Molly." It was her turn to grin, leaning down she took him in her hands, loving the power she wielded as he swayed and thrusted, desperate for friction.

She didn't continue to tease, just positioned him and sunk down slowly. "Oh," Sherlock breathed out, holding her waist tightly, creating leaving divots in her pale smooth skin, using the leverage to move her up and down to their mutual benefit.

Molly leaned down and kissed him, letting her nipples brush against him as she did so, Sherlock's hips increased in speed as he delved into mouth with his tongue, loving her sweetness, with each brush of her nipples he could feel himself getting closer to his tipping point. "Molly I can't, it's too good."

"Let it go Sherlock, it's okay, it's just me." With Molly's words spurring him on he felt like he was rushing over a water fall in complete safety, it was nothing even approaching the mechanical sex he'd had in his university days, nor like the manual stimulation he performed when his body was at the point of near breaking with need for relief.

Molly awakened something in him that he was almost certain no one else on the entire planet could inspire. He didn't believe in soulmates, but he didn't believe in coincidences either, so where did that leave him? John was friendship version and Molly the romantic, however it worked, he needed them, he made a mental note to check with John if Sherlock and Mary were those for him respectively.

That was another thing, he was lost in ecstasy, but far from losing his mind like he'd been told he would, his thoughts had coalesced, flowing like a silver river, cool and clear, moving past and through him slowly, not taking anything away from the moment, just enhancing it.

Sherlock shattered, exploding in a burst of silver droplets, thoughts scattering momentarily, mercury slipping through his veins, the only thought being Molly, Molly, Molly, as the silver river regained cohesion and the droplets gave in to the pull of gravity, as all things must, he became aware that he was sitting up with Molly embracing him as he sobbed and called her name over and over.

Molly remained silent as he softened, but she didn't move, she wasn't worried or upset, just patient, as she always had been, just letting him feel what he must, years without emotional release had conspired to turn him into a human bomb.

Should the detonation have come from a negative source it may well have sent him over the edge of sanity, he certainly wouldn't have been the first genius to be lost in such a fashion, but that was not to be Sherlock's fate, he had Molly. Tiny, seemingly fragile Molly, deceptively dismissible, strong enough to carry him while he rode it out.

Years ago he'd thought The Woman strong, now he saw her for what she was, a thug and a bully in a pretty body using sex as her weapon of choice and protecting her own heart – such as it was– by using others as toys, playthings, convinced of her own superiority, fooling herself she was noble like a lion. She was a female version of Moriarty, charming, empty, and in the end – no doubt – insane.

Sherlock opened his eyes to focus on Molly, far from looking worried, she was serene, head on his shoulder, breathing measured, she seemed…content. Sherlock's lips curved, "Are you hungry Molly?"

Molly lifted her head to look at him, radiating happiness, "Sherlock! I'm famished! My tummy rumbling?"

"No, but we did just do quite a work out," he said with a wink.

Molly laughed, the tinkling sound a thousand little bells, Sherlock suddenly felt like he was in a Disney movie, before the thought could turn sour and ruin the moment, Molly said to him, "Oh, I never did tell you about the autopsy I had on the day of the day of the broadcast, a few things happened and pushed it out of my head."

Sherlock gaped at her, Molly pulled a face and asked "Inappropriate?"

Sherlock laughed and shook his head, looking at her in adoration, "No, Molly, far from inappropriate, more like perfect."

They snuggled in together under the covers once they'd both ran off to the bathroom and freshened up a little. Molly pulled Sherlock's shirt on and buttoned it loosely, Sherlock thought she should dress that way permanently, it was sexy and had the added benefit of letting people know that she was taken.

Sherlock logged into his app on his phone for food delivery while Molly told him excitedly about the curious autopsy that she'd been so disappointed to miss out on when she'd been escorted from Bart's that day.

After they'd eaten they snuggled under the covers together curled into each other like ferns, Sherlock stroked Molly's skin, up over her hip and dipping into her waist, again and again, he couldn't get enough of her sweet curves.

Sherlock murmured into Molly's neck so softly he barely made a sound, just vibrations through her skin she somehow deciphered into words, "Molly? I don't want you to date other men anymore."

Molly stilled, "Sherlock?"

Sherlock was subdued, "I don't want other men to touch you Molly, I want you to be mine, only mine."

"Sherlock, I am yours, I've been yours for a long time," Molly stopped, understanding sinking in at last. "Sherlock when I was yours but you were not yet mine it was different, I was trying to move on, now we belong to each other, you don't have to check with me, as you'll have me."

"I don't know how these things work, I want to be clear. You are mine and I am yours?"

"Yes Sherlock," he didn't need to see her face to know she wore a smile, he was certain it was as wide as his own.

Sherlock pulled Molly tighter and kissed the top of her head, she could feel him relaxing and drifting away, in that moment everything else disappeared, the broadcaster, the engagement, the tranquilliser dart, the agents, it all floated away as they drifted into sleep together at last.

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